ittle fellow and, carrying
him out, strove to soothe him.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Frost examined Chloe's injuries. They were not so great
as she had anticipated. She learned on inquiry that the water had not
been scalding hot. There was little doubt that with proper care she
would recover from her injuries in a week or ten days. But in the
meantime it would not do to use the foot.

"What shall I do, missus?" groaned Chloe. "I ain't got nothin' baked up.
'Pears like me and Pomp must starve."

"Not so bad as that, Chloe," said Mrs. Frost, with a reassuring smile.
"After we have you on the bed we will take Pomp home with us, and give
him enough food to last you both a couple of days. At the end of that
time, or sooner, if you get out, you can send him up again."

Chloe expressed her gratitude warmly, and Mrs. Frost, calling in Frank's
assistance, helped the poor woman to a comfortable position on the
bed, which fortunately was in the corner of the same room. Had it
been upstairs, the removal would have been attended with considerable
difficulty as well as pain to Chloe.

Pomp, the acuteness of whose pain had subsided, looked on with wondering
eyes while Frank and Mrs. Frost "toted" his mother onto the bed, as he
expressed it.

Chloe accepted, with wondering gratitude, the personal attentions of
Mrs. Frost, who bound up the injured foot with a softness of touch which
brought no pain to the sufferer.

"You ain't too proud, missus, to tend to a poor black woman," she said.
"Down Souf dey used to tell us dat everybody looked down on de poor
nigger and lef' 'em to starve an' die if dey grow sick."

"They told you a great many things that were not true, Chloe," said Mrs.
Frost quietly. "The color of the skin ought to make no difference where
we have it in our power to render kind offices."

"Do you believe niggers go to de same heaven wid w'ite folks, missus?"
asked Chloe, after a pause.

"Why should they not? They were made by the same God."

"I dunno, missus," said Chloe. "I hopes you is right."

"Do you think you can spare Pomp a little while to go home with us?"

"Yes, missus. Here you, Pomp," she called, "you go home wid dis good
lady, and she'll gib you something for your poor sick mudder. Do you
hear?"

"I'se goin' to ride?" said Pomp inquiringly.

"Yes," said Frank good-naturedly.

"Hi, hi, dat's prime!" ejaculated Pomp, turning a somersault in his joy.

"Scramble in, then, and we'll start."

Pomp needed